


Of Dumbs and Drabbles

by boats_birds



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, in which Kagami and Kuroko are cute dumbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boats_birds/pseuds/boats_birds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles written for the kgkr_60min prompts on Twitter. Ratings for each prompt vary greatly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Idiots and Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Locker Room. It's set after the Winter Cup, if that's not obvious~ This feels a little rushed, but hopefully it's alright! I'm hoping it's because of how quickly I wrote it haha.
> 
> Rating: T

Kuroko’s back slams against the locker, but he doesn’t even feel the ache bloom in his back. A noise slips from his throat with the impact, low and desperate, but he doesn’t even hear it. All he can feel are long, shaking fingers gripping his thighs and rough lips brushing his own, as Kagami growls under his breath, “ _Kuroko_ …”

Kagami pulls away, setting his teeth in the curve of Kuroko’s neck, and Kuroko’s head knocks back against the lockers with a bang. Red eyes peek up at him, but that’s not where he wants him, so Kuroko tugs his hair.

“Please. Don’t stop. Don’t stop now.”

Kagami blinks up at him for a moment longer, almost in disbelief or amazement, but then he’s kissing Kuroko again and nothing else matters. Fingers tug his jersey loose and skate up the bones of his spine, causing Kuroko to arch sharply. His hands are shaking as they grip Kagami’s shirt and hair, his whole body trembling, but he doesn’t know if it’s even from exhaustion now or not.

_How did they end up like this?_

 

* * *

 

They all piled into the locker room, sprawled across the floor and benches, their shaky breaths the only noise. Kagami hadn’t made it far before his legs gave out, collapsing on the floor to sit against the lockers. Kuroko didn’t fare much better, nearly crawling into the room behind him before taking his place beside the tall redhead.

None of the team said a word. No one spoke, they only breathed, and Kuroko felt the electricity in the air spark across his skin. No one spoke, but they all wore the biggest smiles.

Then Koganei whispered, “We won. We really won. _We really, actually won, guys_.”

A grin spread across Kagami’s cheeks, reckless and wild, before his triumphant yell echoed off the walls, just as loud as the final buzzer. The rest of the team followed close behind, with whoops and shouts so loud it rang in Kuroko’s ears. It was incoherent, no words, just screams and hugs and tears, but it felt like a _team_. It felt like _home_.

Riko clapped her hands, trying to be a coach even though she was still crying. “Okay, okay! I know we’ve just _won the Winter Cup, we won_!” Her voice turned high-pitched with excitement. “But we can only rest for a bit! They want to take our pictures and interview us!”

Kuroko closed his eyes with a smile as Hyuuga groaned about how they were lucky to be alive, let alone take pictures. But Kuroko could hear the happiness in his voice, in everyone’s voice. It filtered into the room until nothing else remained, until it filled Kuroko to the point of bursting.

_They did it. They won_.

A shoulder knocked into his own, and he peeked up to find Kagami staring at him. They met each other’s eyes for a moment, then Kagami was grinning again, eyes scrunched in his joy. “Told you we’d be number one in Japan!”

Kuroko laughed, light and airy and happy. Kagami spoke like it was the easiest thing in the world, as it were effortless. As if it were always an inevitability. “Yes, you did, Kagami-kun.”

The team began to begrudgingly trek out of the room, limping and holding each other up and knocking into lockers, but Kuroko had never seen people so tall and proud. He shakily pushed himself up and tried to follow them, but suddenly a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He turned to Kagami, who now looked sheepish.

“Little help here?”

Without a word, Kuroko reached his hand out, gripping onto Kagami’s much larger palm, then hoisted Kagami to his feet. Kagami still held his grip even after he was up, refusing to release him. Instead, he just stared at their hands, smile gone and brows furrowed in concentration. Then he looked up to Kuroko, piercing straight through him.

“It was you, you know.”

Kuroko blinked. “Huh?”

“There was another guy standing at the door. I thought I had to beat him or something to get him to open it, but it was you.” His gaze turned soft, vulnerable. “Like you were waiting there for me.”

Kuroko swallowed, his mouth dry and ears burning red, and tried to reply over his pounding pulse. He wasn’t sure what to say, and he wasn’t sure if Kagami would even be able to hear him over his heart that was lodged in his throat. In a way, it made sense. Of course Kagami saw him, when had he _ever_ been able to hide from Kagami?

He tried so hard to reply like normal, but all that came out was, “I’m sorry, Kagami-kun.”

And then he was tugging on the hem of Kagami’s jersey and pressing their lips with a desperation he didn’t know he had.

He pulled away shortly after, licking at his bottom lip that was sore from the impact, to find Kagami staring at him with wide eyes. His face slowly, slowly became the same shade as his hair, and then he was growling. “ _I’m sorry_? Don’t say _you’re sorry_ before kissing me, idiot.”

Then Kuroko was picked up and pinned to the locker with Kagami’s lips.

 

* * *

 

Incisors set into his shoulder, large hands trailing under the band of his shorts, and suddenly Kuroko doesn’t care how they got here, as long as Kagami keeps touching him like that. He tugs on Kagami’s nape, legs tightening on his waist, and his body curves them close together. Kagami’s lips are on his again, huffing his name under every breath. “ _Kuroko_ …”

“ _Hey! Idiot duo!_ ”

Kagami jumps and slams his face into Kuroko’s, their teeth clacking and foreheads knocking with an exclamation of pain. They both snap and stare behind Kagami at the door to find Riko standing there, her foot tapping and hand on her hip.

“I’m real happy for you two, but can you save that for later? We have things to do!”

She walks off with that, like she hadn’t just caught them making out in the locker room. Kuroko releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and lets go of Kagami to put his legs back on the floor. If Kuroko didn’t know any better, by the state of his face, he’d think Kagami was going to die in embarrassment.

“Let’s go, Kagami-kun. We can...talk about this later.”

Kagami pauses and follows after him, taking his hand in his own. “Fine, but we can talk about it at my house. You can tell me all about how not sorry you are.”


	2. Of Typhoons and Sneezes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Rain. Again, these feel rushed, but I'm hoping it's just how quickly I'm writing them and that they read okay haha! Just so you're warned, this is extremely cheesy. I love cheese.
> 
> Rating: G

Kagami didn’t like the rain. He never had, and he probably never would.

It didn’t rain much in California, especially in summer when the threat of a drought was always a possibility, and what little it did rain was in the cool of winter. But here in Tokyo, it rained nearly all the damn time in summer. On top of that, it was _so freaking humid_. He practically drowned any time he left the safety of his apartment and air conditioner.

So yeah, Kagami didn’t like the rain. If anything, he kind of hated it. Especially when the sky opened in a downpour during the middle of his and Kuroko’s one-on-one game, leaving them running as quickly as they could to find any sort of shelter.

“Shit, shit, shit! Why does it always have to rain here?!” he growled as they splashed through a puddle.

Kuroko ran slightly behind him, Nigou tucked as close as he could get in his arms, with one of his hands held over the dog’s face, like that was going to keep him from getting wet. “It’s almost the rainy season, Kagami-kun. It’s like this every year.”

“Yeah, well, Japan should get better weather!”

The rain came down in a steady torrent, soaking Kagami from his shirt that was now sticking to his skin to his socks that sloshed in his shoes. He scowled as they finally found an awning to duck under, because nothing, _nothing in this world_ (except losing a basketball match) was worse than wet socks. He gripped the bottom of his shirt and wrung it out, water pouring from it like a damn waterfall.

Kuroko wasn’t doing much better than he was, especially since he was more worried about Nigou than himself. He was working the little wet jersey off the dog’s body, then squeezing it in his hand to get out what water he could. Nigou whined in his arms and squirmed.

Then Kuroko peeked at him from the corner of his eye, and Kagami _knew_. “Don’t you do it, Kuroko.”

“Kagami-kun, Nigou’s wet and uncomfortable. Besides, we’re already wet, so it shouldn’t hurt.” Twin blue eyes were staring at him in pouts, looking so _absolutely dejected and pitiful and desperate._ Kagami had never hated the puppy stare more than he did at this moment.

He sighed. “Fine, but set him over there by you.”

Kuroko immediately placed Nigou carefully on the ground, Kagami bracing himself for what he knew was coming. Sure enough, as soon as his four paws were on steady ground, he began to shake himself, flinging droplets of wet dog all over himself and Kuroko. After he was done, he turned to them and yipped, tongue lolling happily.

Kagami looked out across the street, which was slowly filling with more and more puddles, and leaned back against the wall behind them. They weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Man, this sucks. The rain _sucks_.”

Kuroko peered over at him, but then stared up at the sky, as if he could see something past the ocean of grey clouds. “I don’t think the rain is so bad. If anything, it’s refreshing and calming, isn’t it?”

Kagami scoffed. “If anything, my wet socks are really annoying, aren’t they?”

A small smile flashed over Kuroko’s face, lips tilting like a crack of lightning, and then he was moving out from under the awning and into the pouring rain.

“Kuroko?! What the hell are you doing?!” He took a step forward, debating on reaching out and grabbing the idiot to drag him back.

Blue hair, darker than usual after being soaked, swished as he tilted his face towards the sky, eyes closed and arms outstretched, just standing there. “I’m enjoying the rain, Kagami-kun.”

At first, Kagami thought he had _lost his damn mind_. Who goes out in the middle of a downpour just to _stand there_? But Kuroko was such an odd little guy that he came to expect weird things like this from him. After all, weird was normal when it came to Kuroko.

But what he didn’t expect was that the longer he watched Kuroko, clothes adhering to him like a second skin and quiet smile on his face and looking like he was completely at peace with the world, the more he thought he was _the most beautiful person he had ever seen_.

Kuroko turned to him, rivulets of rain dripping down his face, and pinned him with eyes the same color as summer skies. “Will you join me, Kagami-kun?”

He swallowed, and his cheeks would probably release steam if the cool rain hit his burning face right now. “Y-you’re gonna catch a cold, idiot.”

A pale hand reached out to him. “Then we’ll be quick about it.”

In that moment, Kagami realized that even though Kuroko was the color of sunny skies and cotton candy and warm oceans, he was actually his own storm. Everything would be seemingly calm, and before he knew it, Kuroko would have him swept into his pace. A tongue sharp as lightning and a smile just as dangerous, he was like a little typhoon, carrying Kagami farther and farther into blue eyes and ivory skin.

Kagami didn’t like the rain. If anything, he hated it. Especially when it made his heart pound in his chest like cracks of thunder.

But it didn’t stop him from reaching out and taking Kuroko’s hand, who immediately tugged him back out into the pouring rain that he hated so much five minutes ago.

“Fine, but if your ass gets a cold, I’m not taking care of you.”

Kuroko chuckled. “How mean, Kagami-kun. Without your care, how else will I ever feel better?”

He furiously ignored the blush on his face and yelled, “By taking medicine!”

And so they ended up standing in the pouring rain, Kagami bickering and grabbing for Kuroko’s head while Kuroko laughed and darted out of his reach, causing everyone passing by to stare at them. Nigou ran out to join them shortly after, darting between their feet and barking up at them. It wasn’t until they were sneezing and soaked to even their bones that they walked home together, Kuroko holding Nigou with one arm while his free hand held Kagami’s.

After that, Kagami didn’t mind the rain so much. Even if he ended up in bed with a cold, Kuroko chuckling at his groans every time he fed him a spoonful of porridge.


	3. Of Lips and Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Kiss. I'm actually pretty happy with this one! It flowed pretty well and I hope that you enjoy it a lot, since I enjoyed writing it a lot~
> 
> Rating: T

Kagami kisses Kuroko and it feels like he’s breathing for the first time, like he’s finally come home to the one thing he’s somehow never known but always knew. They kiss and their worlds bridge together, with the meeting of chapped lips that are rough yet soft, familiar yet so new, and Kagami sighs like it’s the last thing he’ll do. He could do this for the rest of his life, lips pressing, arms wrapping, moans lilting, teeth searching, and it still wouldn’t satisfy this craving to taste small smiles and a sharp tongue.

He’s never felt like he’s had much of a home, like he’s never quite in the right place at the right time, but with Kuroko, every place feels like exactly the right time.

*   *   *

Kuroko kisses Kagami and it feels like he’s found a part of himself he never knew was missing, like he’s finally whole after being empty for so long. They kiss and their lives twine together, with the searching of warm lips that are gentle yet wild, new yet so familiar, and Kuroko sighs like it’s the only thing he wants to do. He could do this for the rest of his life, lips slotting, legs squeezing, groans escaping, teeth tugging, and it still wouldn’t satisfy this addiction to devour reckless smirks and a clumsy tongue.

He’s never felt like he could quite be himself, like he’s always hiding in the shadow of who he wants to be, but with Kagami, he feels like there’s no one else he’d rather be.

*   *   *

Kuroko reaches on his tiptoes, rising to make himself as tall as he can possibly be, and places a quiet kiss in the hollow of Kagami’s cheek. It’s soft in a way that only Kuroko can be, gentle like a breeze on his skin, and it only serves to heat his face, blushing a shade of red that blends into his hair. Kuroko only does this when Kagami has done something he deems ‘cute’, and today’s choice is him carefully brushing out the few knots in Nigou’s fur. It’s a Kuroko kind of kiss, and it doesn’t help his racing heart when Kuroko murmurs, “Your cheek is warm, Kagami-kun,” against his skin.

*   *   *

Kagami leans down, bending his spine in an awkward sort of bow, cups Kuroko’s face to tilt it towards him, like he’s looking towards the sun, and places a quick peck on Kuroko’s nose. His eyes are squeezed shut when he does it, Kuroko notices, and it’s so endearing and precious that Kuroko feels his lungs pick up in response, like the first time Kagami did this. Kagami only does this when he realizes just how in love with Kuroko he is, and that makes Kuroko’s cheeks bloom with pink. It’s a Kagami kind of kiss, and when he scrunches his nose reflexively from the kiss, like a bunny Kagami once told him, Kagami glances at him and mutters, “Dammit, you’re really freaking cute.”

*   *   *

Kuroko buries his face into tan skin, wrapping his arms around that neck that was made for his hold, and presses his lips along Kagami’s jawline. It’s hushed like Kuroko, but Kagami feels the electric spark behind it, like a tiny hurricane is traveling along the coast of his jaw. He falls back against the wall, large hands trailing along the small of Kuroko’s waist, and Kuroko’s breath hitches like the first raindrop to fall. Kuroko kisses him like this when he wants him, and Kagami is more than happy to respond, especially when Kuroko whispers, “Take me to the bedroom, _Taiga-kun_.”

*   *   *

Kagami merely watches, morning sunlight spreading over pale skin with a gentle hush, warming ivory into blushing gold. He cards a hand through that ridiculous bedhead that he loves more than he’ll ever say, and studies the softness of Kuroko’s sleepy breaths, a small smile tilting his lips that makes Kagami wonder what he’s dreaming about. It’s mornings like this that Kagami’s in disbelief about what he ever did to deserve anything as amazing as this. He presses his lips to the corner of Kuroko’s eye, feeling his eyelashes flutter with a small groan, and chuckles, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

*   *   *

Kuroko watches him carefully, curling his fingers around a strong but fragile wrist, and lifts the appendage to place a kiss against Kagami’s pulse. He feels the beat of his heart thrum against soft lips, before Kuroko rakes his teeth across the skin, blue eyes dilating like an invitation. A low growl echoes in his throat, and that normally gentle smile tilts into a smirk, tongue tracing down his veins, across his palm, and to his fingers, warm mouth wrapping around one of them. Kuroko’s kisses are teasing, and so is his voice when he says, “Your heart’s beating fast, Kagami-kun.”

*    *   *

Kagami doesn’t take time to watch, hooking his arms under small but strong thighs, and lifts to slam Kuroko against the wall, teeth already in place on his collarbone. He feels the sharpness of canines scrape up his throat, incisors pressing against the beat of his pulse, and Kuroko’s hips arch heavy against Kagami’s body. A pointed nip to his skin, the sting sending shocks down his vertebrae, and he tosses his head with his moan. Kagami’s kisses are rough and wild, and so is he, especially when he says, “So is yours, _Tetsuya_.”

*   *   *

They collapse onto the bed, slicked with sweat and breathy pants, and are immediately tangled together, like they’ve never been known as two separate beings. Their lips press together, slow and sound, a quiet symphony of moving kisses to produce the beautiful sound of blushing hearts. They kiss and they become everything the other is, with the meeting of lips that fit perfectly together, like they were made only for the other, and they both smile like there’s nothing they’d rather do. They fall asleep like this, bodies close, limbs draping, Kagami snoring, Kuroko nestling, and even years from now it’ll still feel like the first time.

Maybe they never had a home or truly knew themselves because they were just waiting for each other, and they let their kisses do the talking when they say, “ _I love you_.”


	4. Of Baths and Blanket Burritos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Bath/Shower. I'm not quite sure where this was supposed to go or where it went, but it just...went? I'm a little unsure of how I feel about it, but hey, bath cuddles are something, right? Inspired greatly by my roommate's adorable headcanons~
> 
> Rating: T/M

Kuroko didn’t like the cold, didn’t like the chill that crept under his clothes and crawled along his skin, leaving goosebumps and shivers in its wake. There were things he liked _about_ the cold, like watching snowflakes dance to the ground or exhaling heavy to make his own dragon’s breath. But he’d always been extra sensitive to temperature, nearly fainting or getting sick if he was too hot and then burrowing into blankets if he was too cool. He particularly didn’t like the icy winds that began to pick up outside, sending people scurrying along in coats and scarves.

Which is why when Kagami came home from work, finding Kuroko swaddled tightly in a blanket on the couch, the first thing he said was, “Welcome home. Can we take a bath?”

And how could Kagami say no to someone in a blanket burrito?

“C’mon then, before you become a popsicle or smother to death in that,” he laughed. Kagami easily picked him up when pale arms reached out to him from the fortress of warmth, carrying him to the bathroom while Kuroko buried as close to Kagami’s heat as he could get.

Getting _into_ the bath was a process for Kuroko, a slow and almost frustrating process. First, Kagami had to set him down on cold tiles, leaving him to bounce from one foot to the other while Kagami filled the tub with steaming water. Then he had to wait for the water to slowly stream into the tub, feeling the chill of the bathroom begin to sink into his muscles. And _then_ , worst of all, was the temptation of Kagami himself, lifting his shirt off before unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants off, muscles rippling and back arching and looking so _perfect_.

Kuroko stilled his movements and felt his mouth run dry. Just like it did every time, no matter how many times Kagami stripped in front of him.

He blamed that for why he was suddenly plastered to that back he loved so much, teeth nibbling across wide shoulder blades with no shame or remorse.

Kagami squeaked, actually _squeaked_ , much to Kuroko’s amusement, and then reached behind to pinch at his hip. “Get undressed, idiot!”

It took more willpower than Kuroko thought he had, still clinging to Kagami, but he managed to pull away from his boyfriend and own personal furnace long enough to tug his clothes off. It left him with goosebumps racing across his skin and he rubbed at his arms just for some semblance of warmth that wasn’t to be found among chilled ceramic.

He pretended not to notice Kagami peeking at him from the corner of his eye, dark red trailing down the length of his body, and now he was shivering for an entirely different reason.

“Alright, it’s ready,” Kagami said, then began sinking into the tub with a hiss.

Kuroko wasted no time hurrying in after him, knocking Kagami out of his careful descent and straight into the water with a screech. He ignored the yell of, “ _Kuroko!_ It’s _hot_ , you know?!” and instead just settled himself between long legs, pressing his back into Kagami’s firm chest with a happy sigh.

Warm, strong arms wrapped around his middle, tugging him further back and Kuroko pressed his cheek into the muscle of his upper arm, feeling it flex as it squeezed his stomach. “You little shit, you couldn’t have waited until I was all the way in the water?!”

He nuzzled the tanned skin. “But it was cold, Taiga-kun.”

Kagami froze, arms stilling around his waist, and Kuroko knew that there would be a flush on his face that had nothing to do with the water. Just like there always was when Kuroko used his given name.

He groaned, but then buried his face into blue hair and Kuroko could hear the grin in his voice. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

Kuroko smiled, warm and content, and set his teeth gently into the line of Kagami’s bicep. “Keep me warm, I hope.”

Rough lips pressed against the side of his neck, trailing up to his ear with teasing nips, and Kuroko felt goosebumps rise on his skin in the heat of the water.

“I can do that.”

They moved to the shower afterwards, after the tub had been properly defiled, their moans and gasps and sloshing water and meeting bodies still echoing in Kuroko’s ears. It was while Kagami was shampooing his hair, playfully styling it into spikes all over his head, that he chuckled.

“You know, Tetsuya, you really gotta stop doing this every time it gets a little chilly outside.”

Kuroko peeked up at him, then shook his head, flinging shampoo and suds all over the shower and a guarding redhead to Kagami’s shrill shouts.

“Never.”


	5. Of Large and Small

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Size Difference. I'm extremely and utterly late, but I wanted to finish this and post it. I also took more than an hour, please forgive me. I also also am very very embarrassed about this. I need some sleep.
> 
> Rating: E

Kagami tries making a list of all the things he loves about Kuroko once.

There isn’t really any reason for it, he just wants to put into words exactly what it is that made him fall in love such a little idiot. But Kuroko’s so _amazing_ , in a way that only Kuroko can be, in a way that grips his lungs and leaves his legs shaking like he’s just played the roughest game in his life, in a way that has his pulse thundering in his ears, that he can’t do it. The list just grows and grows until he runs out of his limited vocabulary and loses count of how many times his heart thuds against his ribs and is sucked into a whirlpool of thoughts about summer sky irises.

And even then the list grows ever longer.

But among everything he loves, among all the grace and serenity and smartass and gentleness that is Kuroko, he still has his favorites. The way Kuroko looks at him when he’s cooking dinner. The way Kuroko rubs the small of his back after he’s had a long day. Kuroko’s wrists that fit exactly against the curve of his teeth. How Kuroko smiles when he thinks no one is paying attention. Kuroko’s quiet, “ _Goodnight, Taiga-kun_ ,” he sighs into their sheets before drifting to sleep to the soft of Kagami’s hums.

His favorite though, more than anything else, is Kuroko’s size.

Kagami isn’t sure why, as he tends not to dwell on these kind of things, but him and Kuroko fit together like a dream, like somehow they’re molded to each other’s outline and were waiting for the other to fill them. Sure, sometimes Kuroko gets knocked in the face with his elbow, or his stomach is the first thing Kuroko can reach to jab, or Kuroko scowls at him when Kagami got that thing from the top shelf he couldn’t reach. But even that was perfect for them.

He loves Kuroko’s size, even if Kuroko occasionally mentions that he wishes he were just a few inches taller. Or maybe if Kagami-kun were a few inches shorter.

He especially loves Kuroko’s size when they’re like this, crowded in each other, breathing the other’s breath, and slamming into walls.

 Kuroko’s so little compared to him, so light and pliant in his arms, that when Kagami grips him by the waist and _tugs_ him off the ground, it’s like he’s trying to grasp air, even after Kuroko wraps his legs around him with a whine. Bony hips knock against his, Kuroko arching and grinding against the hard line of his cock, and Kagami can’t stop the growl or the latching of his incisors into the fragile pulse of Kuroko’s slim neck. He clutches Kuroko so close, fingernails digging along the frailty of his vertebrae while tugging off shorts and shirts and anything between him and ivory skin, that he’s afraid there’ll be purple hurricane whorls decorating Kuroko’s skin the next day, in the same suspiciously large size as Kagami’s fingertips.

But then Kuroko’s tongue trails up to his ear, teeth tugging the lobe, and he couldn’t care less about bruises or soreness or scratches tomorrow morning, so long as they’re twisted in each other and pressing the contrast of their skin together.

The quietest demand that echoes like a roar in his head, “Bed, Taiga-kun. _Now._ ”

He easily gathers the lightness of Kuroko in one arm, Kuroko’s legs squeezing him tighter, while his other hand fumbles for the doorknob, and then their gasps are spilling across the white of the sheets. He’s so enraptured by the sweat of Kuroko’s skin on his tongue, determined to taste every flawless blemish hidden on pale canvas, that he nearly misses the slender press of fingers around his cock, cool fingertips tracing over veins before brushing over the slick head. A groan rattles deep in his throat, knocking any control he had loose, as he rocks into the grip of Kuroko’s hand.

But Kuroko touches him so damn _lightly_ , ghosting over his flesh in teasing strokes, it leaves him baring his teeth, pupils blown wide and staring into a little smirk.

“ _Tetsuya_ ,” he growls, a warning on the back of his teeth, and the smirk grows wider.

Kagami grabs Kuroko’s hand, sliding slim fingers through his thick digits, small palm cradled against his own, and pins it beside blue hair. His hand nearly dwarfs Kuroko’s, fair skin drowning amidst tanned, as blunt fingernails claw against his knuckles. He returns Kuroko’s smirk, grin sitting crooked on his cheeks.

“My turn, _Tetsuya_.”

He presses the heat of their cocks together, flush and leaking and twitching, and Kuroko _hisses_ under his breath before setting his head back, exposing the bob of his throat. His large hand wraps around both of them with ease, thumbing across his head and then Kuroko’s with a twist, before stroking back down. It’s first hesitant, slow and steady in a tight grip, but then Kuroko thrusts eagerly against him, moaning a lewd “Taiga-kun _, more_ ,” under his breath,and Kagami’s _never_ had control when it comes to Kuroko.

Mouth latching onto the skin stretched over protruding collarbones, canines scraping across a pounding pulse, Kagami works the two of them in his fist, silky skin gliding in time to the slick noises filling the room. Kuroko gasps, spine arching off the bed, and his fingers grip Kagami’s with a strength that still surprises him. Wet and fast and _wanting_ , Kuroko’s cock fits against his calluses perfectly, leaving him dripping.

Kagami loses himself in Kuroko. Loses himself in the fluttering lashes that squeeze shut whenever he twists his hand just right. Loses himself in the splay of slender thighs that knock against him with their occasional spasms. Loses himself in summer skies tinged sunset pink with the flush of his cheeks. Loses himself in the angelic whines of his own name.

 _God, Kuroko was so fucking beautiful_.

It escalates and escalates, coiling in his pelvis while his pulse thunders in his ears, and then he spills across Kuroko’s stomach, vision whited and teeth sinking into the line of that delicate neck. His hips jerk in tiny thrusts, limbs locking as he slows to squeeze out his release. Then his eyes meet light blue, and Kuroko follows behind, coming over his fingers and nearly breaking his hand with his grip.

After their lungs have calmed and hearts have steadied, he cleans them off with a dirty shirt from beside the bed, then gathers Kuroko in his arms and just _basks_ over how perfect he fits there. Kuroko’s just little enough to tuck under his chin, just the right size for Kagami’s arms to loop around him comfortably, and he’s just big enough to feel like he’s sheltering Kuroko from the world. They press together, skin on skin, and Kuroko smiles like he’s already dreaming.

Then he sighs, quiet and soft as always, “Goodnight, Taiga-kun. I love you.”

He breathes in, gentle and content as always, “I love you too.”

Kagami tries making a list of all the things he loves about Kuroko once.

He thought his favorite is Kuroko’s size, as a small back presses against his wide chest and little hands twine with his, dreamy breaths so quiet in the hush of their room, the curve of a smile on pink lips.

But then he realizes, as he finds his home in the joint of Kuroko’s shoulder, his favorite is just _Kuroko._ Every little damn thing about him.


	6. Of Shadows and Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Inspired By a Song. Written while listening to [Boats and Birds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn4EIv1-uz0) by Gregory and the Hawk on repeat (which is where I got my username, if that's not obvious). I highly suggest you go listen to it while reading~ I'm not quite sure what this is supposed to be, it just kind of...went? But, I hope you enjoy it regardless!
> 
> Rating: G

Kuroko is a shadow.

He’s said the words so many times, let them spill off his naïve and reckless tongue, let them define nearly everything he was, that he wouldn’t be surprised to find them written across the marrow of his bones. He used to remember a time when he wasn’t, when he was just Kuroko Tetsuya, but it gets harder and harder to remember the longer he stands in pitch darkness. He likes to think that people understand when he explains what he is, but then he realizes he’s often standing all alone, surrounded by nothing but shadows, and he wants to believe that no one understands just so they’ll only see Kuroko Tetsuya. 

 

* * *

 

Kuroko is a shadow. And he’s okay with this.

Some things are harder to accept than others, a give and take of shadow and light that he has to balance, has to steady in order to be what he needs to be. He likes the quiet, of being able to sneak by people without being noticed, of losing himself in a book in a crowd. He likes the freedom, of being able to move where he wants, with just a duck of his head and a flick of his eyes. He likes playing basketball the most, of being able to stand on the court with a team he loves so much, of being actual  _use_  to them.

But he hates the loneliness. Of being able to disappear without anyone asking where he’s went, even when he’s standing right beside them. Of not being able to get someone’s attention, even though he’s said their name five times. Of feeling like a ghost trailing behind people, a darkness lurking on the ground that no one turns around to see. Like he doesn’t truly exist and has already faded from people’s memories.

But it’s a give and take, so he gives and gives while only taking what he needs, and he exists.

 

* * *

 

Kuroko is a shadow. And he’s okay with this. Especially when Kagami looks at him.

Kagami’s never quite treated him the same way everyone else has, didn’t flinch when Kuroko declared them light and shadow, and instead just shined as brightly as he could, as if pure sunshine beamed through his veins. Sometimes he was almost too bright for Kuroko to look at, wildfire grin stretching carelessly across his face, and Kuroko felt himself sink further into shadows. Give and take, giving darkness, drowning in light.

But sometimes Kagami looks at him, constellations dancing across his smile, and Kuroko doesn’t feel like a shadow. Kagami notices when he’s disappeared, and then grabs his head when he realizes Kuroko’s standing right beside him. Kagami pays attention to only him when Kuroko utters his name, an entire conversation held around the words, “Kagami-kun,” and “Yeah.” Kagami constantly looks behind him to make sure Kuroko’s still there, and sometimes reaches his hand back to brush the back of Kuroko’s, as if he’s afraid Kuroko will vanish at any moment.

Kagami looks at him as if he’s never seen anything brighter, as if he himself isn’t the personification of the sun, as if Kuroko’s made of moonlight and stardust, and it makes Kuroko’s fingertips tremble.

When Kagami scolds him for saying he’s merely a shadow, yelling, “You’re more than that, idiot! You’re amazing!” Kuroko feels his heart race, realizing Kagami doesn’t see a shadow. He sees Kuroko Tetsuya.

So he presses their lips together, taking so much more than he could ever give, twisting his fingers in the back of Kagami’s shirt and clinging to his warmth, nails digging in just so he won’t drift away. He buries his face in Kagami’s chest, hiding there, and Kagami cards a large hand through his hair, curling himself more around Kuroko as if to shield him in their own little world. And Kuroko nearly chokes on all of the emotions that suddenly want to pour from him, wants to scream about how Kagami makes him feel like he’s light too, and how he’d always be a shadow if he could just stay with Kagami like this forever.

Instead, he merely clutches tighter, feeling the thrum of Kagami’s heart under his cheek, and whispers, “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Kuroko is a shadow. And he’s okay with this. Especially when Kagami looks at him. Because he feels like so much more.

They’re lying in bed, skin brushing skin, cheeks still lightly flushed, when Kuroko hears a faint whisper breathed into his hair.

“You’re beautiful.”

Kuroko glances up and finds dark red eyes piercing him, staring into him as if they see nothing else and never want to see anything else. Fingers ghost down the bumps of his spine, trailing across the ridges of his body as if he were something precious, and Kuroko feels so tangible, so  _real_. He smiles, gentle and soft, and suddenly feels the urge to cry.

“Not at all.”

Because really, compared to the light that is Kagami, the beauty ingrained in those sun-kissed muscles, and yes, even those ridiculous eyebrows, he’s nothing at all.

Kagami scowls at him and pinches his cheek before resting his calloused hand there, thumb brushing across the arch of his cheekbone, eyes staring into blue like he’s drowning. Then he smiles, small in a way that speaks volumes, and just kisses him, as if he’s the one taking from Kuroko. And then Kuroko’s tangled in him again, shadow entwined with light, destiny twisting with fate.

Kuroko Tetsuya intertwined with Kagami Taiga.


	7. Of Focus and Tiger Claws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: The Zone. I'm super duper late, but that's honestly nothing new! I remember seeing people asking for Zone sex, so here's my pitiful attempt. Hopefully it's alright and not too much of a disgrace to the idea!
> 
> Rating: M/E

Kuroko sometimes thinks he understands, when they’re pressed close and their breath hangs heavy between them, tangled and entwined between the soft of their sheets, tiger claws rough across his hips, what Kagami means when he talks about the Zone.

Kagami once tries to explain exactly what it feels like, when you feel like the world is on your shoulders but you’re strong enough to carry it, when you have no oxygen in your body but you’re still heaving for air, when you feel like you can do anything and you’ve already won. It’s a feeling like no other, Kagami tells him, one of complete concentration and focus.

“It’s like…you suddenly realize everything, you know? Everything makes sense. And then you just move.”

Kuroko doesn’t understand when Kagami first says this (he blames the amount of sound effects Kagami uses to describe the sensation). It makes sense later when Kuroko puts it into his own words, and it sounds similar to his own observation skills, but he knows he’ll never be able to enter such a place. He’ll never be able to experience that feeling, that utter rush of being on top of Japan, on top of _the world_ , with nothing but air under his feet.

But then Kagami touches him for the first time, and gravity doesn’t exist.

Being together is still new for them, how they fumble together and trip onto the bed (or that one time into the floor), only to laugh about how Kagami’s caught in his own shirt and Kuroko’s hair is slowly building itself into a nest. But they fit together, in ways that Kuroko only ever dreamed of, when he tossed and turned over tanned hands contrasting on the pale of his stomach, when he woke up in a sweat over a muscled back rippling under his fingernails. They piece together slowly, learning their contours and blemishes, and worshipping all the little imperfections they find.

But then there are nights like this, when Kagami outlines him with his teeth, when his fingers press deep into the shallows of his body, when Kuroko can’t focus on anything but how Kagami shifts into a wild animal in their bed, and he understands completely.

It’s like their own Zone. A Kagami and Kuroko only Zone. One where they rush and he’s slammed against the headboard, just one of Kagami’s hands encircling both of his wrists, their bodies straining and grinding against the other’s, his mouth panting against Kagami’s lips. Their clothes are gone but he doesn’t know when, doesn’t care, not when Kagami bites his lips and tugs, and Kuroko feels like he’s being devoured. Nothing else exists, nothing outside of this room, this bed, _Taiga_ exists.

“ _Tetsuya_.” A growl that rumbles over his collarbones, canines tracing over his pulse in a way that leaves him shivering and craning his neck for more.

Kagami wastes no time in opening him up, fingers stretching and filling him, making Kuroko wide-eyed and jolting while Kagami slants their mouths together. Kuroko wraps his legs around that strong waist like a lifeline, and Kagami slides into him like he never even left. Kuroko’s thighs begin to shake, his hands unsteady, and he’s so overwhelmed, but he whispers “Taiga, _please move_ ,” and then Kagami’s answering his every prayer.

They move like there’s no time left, the timer’s counting down, buzzer imminent and lungs crashing, and yet it’s still so perfectly in sync. A flick of red eyes and Kuroko’s arching up against him, matching every thrust inside him. A gasp from pink lips and Kagami’s hand is wrapping around him, pumping in the chaotic rhythm. Kagami never closes his eyes, never looks away from Kuroko, and the spark flashing across those wildfire irises leaves him trembling.

Kuroko wraps himself entirely around Kagami, a mantra of, “ _Taiga, Taiga, Taiga,_ ” falling thickly off his tongue, Kagami answering with his own, “ _Tetsuya, Tetsuya, Tetsuya_.”

Kagami’s lips trail over the shell of his ear and Kuroko feels like he can carry the entire world. Kagami’s hand traces over his ribs like he’s precious and Kuroko loses all of his breath even though he’s still gasping. Kagami whispers, “Tetsuya, _I love you_ ,” and Kuroko feels like he’s won everything. It’s a feeling like no other, one he can’t possibly describe, one of complete trust and light.

Kuroko understands with a clarity that surprises himself, when Kagami gathers him close in a strong hold, hot breaths tangled and entwined between each other, nails raking down the curve of his spine, exactly what the Zone is, tinted dark red and wild like a tiger.

Kuroko suddenly realizes everything. Everything makes sense. And then he just moves.


	8. Of Crayons and Polychrome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Colors. This turned much more poetic than what I had first meant for it to, but hopefully it still reads well! I love the idea of Kagami and Kuroko's favorite colors being each other, so yeah~
> 
> Rating: G

Kuroko’s favorite color was light blue.

Blue like the sky and cotton candy and glaciers and serenity, blue that would seep into his bones and leave a calming wake, blue that would close his eyes and soothe him to sleep. When he was a child, his crayon of choice was turquoise blue, which he would use to draw caricatures of him and his mother (black for his father, grey for his grandmother). His mother would dote on the color, telling him how beautiful of a sky his hair was and how crystal clear his eyes were, and his best friend frequently told him how cool it was that he had blue hair. Kuroko loved all colors, but light blue was his most favorite.

Then in middle school, his world exploded in color.

He still loved blue like the sky and cotton candy and glaciers and serenity, but it expanded until a whole rainbow was kept close to his chest, splashes of color dotting his life until they dripped from his very fingertips. Indigos and violets and yellows and greens and reds and pinks. He suddenly needed a whole 120 count box of crayons to convey all the hues in his life, his smile spreading like a kaleidoscope of colors. It was so colorful it was nearly blinding, and he wanted nothing more than to share all the tints and shades with everyone around him, until everyone knew how vibrant the world could be.

But then all the color disappeared.

It seeped away and away until Kuroko was left in a monochromatic wasteland of blacks and whites and greys, standing amongst the ruin of a rainbow. The blue he loved so much was gone just like all the others, and his crayons crumbled to useless pieces. He watched as all the color slowly drained away, his best friend no longer seeing the blue of his hair, his bleak light no longer seeing anything but a dark blue of sadness, and everyone else crumbled into grey decay. His mother noticed and tried to talk about his once favorite color, telling him how beautiful the sky of his hair was but how his eyes didn’t shine as much, and Kuroko couldn’t bear to tell her he didn’t see that blue, like the sky and cotton candy and glaciers and serenity, anymore.

And then, when he least expected it but needed it most, his vision burned dark red.

A tall redhead walked into his life, strange eyebrows tilted in a scowl and towering over everyone else and a voice loud like an echo, and settled like he had always belonged there. It was slow, so slow, like a burn that didn’t hurt or mark his skin, but that red seeped into all corners of his mind until it was all he could see. His sight tinted dark red, and then, somehow, it brought all the colors back to him. Suddenly, his world was alight with a million shades, flickering on his eyelids with a whole spectrum of hues. All of the rainbow, along with browns and a comforting black-white-red, splashed across his life again, and his kaleidoscope smile returned. His mother noticed and asked him about his once favorite color, blue like the sky and cotton candy and glaciers and serenity, telling him how beautiful his hair was and how his eyes began to sparkle again. Kuroko smiled, “It’s all thanks to Kagami-kun.”

Kuroko’s favorite color is dark red.

Red like a fire and cherries and Valentines and passion, red that burns into his bones and leaves a pleasant warmth, red that opens his eyes and leaves him staring because it’s all so _beautiful_. He trails his fingers through Kagami’s hair and over the curve of his cheek near his eye, a red eyebrow arching at him in confusion though neither says a word. Kuroko smiles but wants to cry at the same time, because his life has never been so colorful, and it’s all because of his favorite shade of redhead in his arms. Kagami buries his face back in Kuroko’s chest, ear pressed to the thump of his heart, and mutters about how weird he’s acting. Kuroko says, “Did you know you’re my favorite color, Kagami-kun?” and laughs as that shade he loves so much spreads on Kagami’s cheeks.

“Yeah, well, you’re mine too, idiot.”


	9. Of Feathers and Heat Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Wings. I've had this drabble written for awhile, and I thought this would be the perfect prompt to post it for! I love Wings AU's, and I have another one I'm slowly planning out, but either way! I'll probably expand on this one day! I hope it's enjoyable~
> 
> Rating: G

Kuroko squinted up at the glaring sun overhead, hand shielding his eyes from the rays beating down. Today was bright, so bright, brighter than he anticipated and brighter than even his light, that he’d somehow lost track of. He scanned the sky, glancing for any sign of him, but got lost again in the brilliance of the sun.

Then Kagami suddenly came rushing back down, slamming the ball through the hoop with a yell.

Honestly, leave it to him to take a game of streetball to the extreme. They were supposed to be relaxing and taking it easy for the next few days by order of the coach. After their last game, when they were barely able to crawl off court, she must have had a change of heart and demanded they all get their rest.

“Kuroko! D’you see that?!” Kagami whooped, teeth glinting with his grin. Then again, Kuroko didn’t think Kagami knew what it meant to rest.

One blue eye shut, peeking across the wide court and to the towering goal to where Kagami was, and wiped his forehead with his wristband. “Yes, it was very impressive, Kagami-kun. Maybe even a bit excessive.”

“Excessive?!” Kagami’s voice came whooshing towards him as he flew over, braking at the last second to land smoothly on the ground. He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it back at the same he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, flashing the line of his hips and abs. “There’s no such thing as too much in basketball, Kuroko!”

It was too hot to banter with him like usual, Kuroko closer to baking than living, so he just waved his arm in agreement instead. Heat waves rolled off the pavement, the air warping like ocean tides, and if he tried hard enough, Kuroko might be able to swim through the humidity. It was going to be today, he thought, today would be the day that he finally melted right to the ground, nothing left of him but a sweaty puddle for someone to mop up.

Until a shadow fell over him, sheltering him from the hateful sun.

He peeked up into dark red, nearly maroon feathers, speckled and dusted with gold, a few white feathered blended in. They were sleek, built for speed and endurance, able to climb heights that were impressive even in their aviator world. Even now they appeared sharp, like they would cut him if Kuroko grazed his fingers along the edge, but he knew how soft they were, how gentle they were when they wrapped around his shoulders. It wasn’t much, but the large wing made it a few degrees cooler, and Kuroko basked in its shadow.

Kagami-kun really did have the most beautiful wings he had ever seen.

Kagami tilted his head, red hair falling across his forehead with the movement. “C’mon. Let’s go get you a milkshake before you die or something.”

Kuroko quickly nodded his approval of said idea, tearing his mind away from beautiful wings that could belong on an angel (and possibly did) to already taste vanilla on his tongue, and turned to gather his bag. He stretched, flexing his own pitch-black wings for the flight to their favorite burger joint. His weren’t as large as Kagami’s, nor were they as muscular, but they were nimble and quiet, allowing him to maneuver through the sky in ways that Kagami told him were “ _really amazing, Kuroko!_ ”

A quick check behind him and he found Kagami was already in the air, bag on his shoulder and wings steadily beating as he hovered, waiting. Black wings shifted, then snapped down sharply, Kuroko silently propelling up beside him. “Shall we go, Kagami-kun?”

He grinned recklessly, canines flashing. “Yeah, I’m starving!”

They both flew off, Kagami flying slightly above him as Kuroko followed his lead. He wondered why Kagami didn’t fly next to him like they usually did, until they were nearly halfway there and then he realized that Kagami kept steering himself in a particular way. A just so particular way that kept himself between Kuroko and the sun, so Kuroko was always in his shade while he glided against the harsh glint of light.

_Kagami-kun really is an idiot_ , Kuroko almost said. But he just smiled fondly instead.


	10. Of Kryptonite and Morning Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Dream. This took a little over an hour, but it kinda took on a life of its own and just kinda went. It's been awhile since I wrote from Kagami's POV on things, and I really enjoyed it, even if I hurt myself with it at the same time ahahaaaa orz Anyways! I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it~!
> 
> Rating: T/M

When Kagami was seven, he dreamed of being a superhero.

He lived on thoughts of slinging spider webs and the flash of a red-white-blue shield, of red capes in the wind of a turbine and dark knights racing through crime-infested streets. He breathed the excitement and the action and the courage of them all, sitting wide-eyed in front of the television with kryptonite and spandex suits dancing in his head.

After he glanced around his empty house, and then to the screen where flocks of people cheered for their hero, he decided that he’d be a superhero too.

Somehow, someway, he’d be that amazing too.

So he’d whoosh through the house, nanny chasing after him, as he jumped on couches and beds, towel tied around his neck and pretend fires putting his cat’s very life in danger. He’d swing up onto skyscraper chairs and then bound off of them when the next toy villain caught his sight, tripping and falling onto his face only once. His newly found superhero lifestyle even followed him to Tatsuya, who would pretend to be “Dr. Evil,” wrought on destroying the city, and the only way to save it was to defeat him in basketball.

But no matter how many good deeds he did, how many kittens saved and toy dinosaurs destroyed and Dr. Evil’s defeated, his house never got any fuller, still just as cold and empty as it always was.

 

* * *

 

When Kagami was fourteen, he dreamed of not being alone.

He lived on thoughts of a crowded house and a warm family to greet him home, of birthday parties thrown by surprise and someone to ruffle his hair for a job well done. He breathed the comfort and the closeness and the warmth of it all, sitting curled up beside his bed, against the wall while the clock tick-tocked into the late hours of the night.

After he buried his face in his knees, insomnia creeping up his spine and leaving him awake despite his tired eyes, he decided that anything would be better than this.

Anything, anywhere, _anyone_ would be _so much better_.

Kagami was a big boy, and while he may not have been the brightest in his class, he understood a lot of things. He understood his parents not wanting to be together anymore and deciding to separate. He understood his father needing to keep his job in California rather than staying here with him. He understood that Tatsuya didn’t want him as a brother and what little family he had drifted away. He told himself over and over again, like a lullaby under his breath, that he understood.

But then nights like this would happen, when he’d hear something in the other room or he’d accidentally burn his own dinner, and he only understood that superheroes had never been real.

 

* * *

 

When Kagami was sixteen, he dreamed of being number one in Japan.

He lived on thoughts of holding up a trophy to a screaming crowd and his teammates huddled together, of standing on top of Japan and roaring so the whole world heard him. He breathed the victory and the adrenaline and the synergy of it all, dribbling a basketball down the court like he had wings before tossing it to the hands of a shadow.

After the pass was returned and he dunked the ball, feeling more alive and _real_ than he had since he was a pretend hero, he decided that he would win.

No matter what it took, even if he broke, with this team, he would _win_.

And so he practiced and practiced, until his legs shook and his breath came short and his arms felt boneless. It was miserable, in the sort of way that only Coach could make them, but when he’d look around at their team, at their little dilapidated family, it was suddenly all worth it. Locking eyes with blue, he’d soar, with only a gentle, “Kagami-kun,” to bring him back to earth.

They moved in perfect synch, in so many ways, and Kagami never knew how amazing that was until he realized that all the empty spaces on the walls of his apartment had been filled with smiling pictures.

And when they finally did win, confetti raining onto his shoulders and tears brimming in his eyes, buzzer still ringing in his ears, he ruffled light blue hair as hard as he could, grin splitting his face.

 

* * *

 

When Kagami was eighteen, he dreamed of Kuroko.

He lived on thoughts of standing together with fingers entwined and wrapping his arms around that small frame, of touching pink lips before meeting them with his own and kissing until there was no more oxygen between them. He breathed the serenity and the trust and the heartache of Kuroko, staring at him from the corner of his eye in the locker room before slamming his own shut.

After images of his best friend flashed whenever he closed his eyes, Kuroko’s presence haunting him even when they were apart, he decided that this would never work out for him.

With him being so tall and dumb and awkward, and Kuroko being so little and amazing and beautiful, there was no way it would ever work out.

So he’d stand as far away as he could without being suspicious, making sure to not graze pale skin or stare at slim shoulders, even though Kuroko still eyed him when he’d suddenly jolt away. He did everything he could to push it out of his mind, screaming at himself that Kuroko was his _best friend, you don’t do this to best friends, you don’t think about your best friend like this_.

Until he woke up in a cold sweat, the feel of calluses still tracing down the line of his stomach, pastel blue still staring straight into him, tongue still wrapping around him in ways that crippled him. Then, he surrendered, shuddering and gritting his teeth while he pretended he wasn’t stroking himself and choking out a too familiar name.

So when he finally blurted it all after holding it in for so long, about how he wanted to hold Kuroko and maybe sort of kiss him sometimes and just _be together_ , and Kuroko smiled a deafening, “I like you too, Kagami-kun,” Kagami couldn’t stop from gathering him in his arms and kissing the breath out of him, because he felt so damn amazing, just like a superhero.

 

* * *

 

When Kagami was twenty-three, he dreamed of happiness.

He lived on thoughts of legs tangled together beneath the sheets and the flash of a light blue nest, of soft breaths in the hush of light and skin warmed into morning gold. He breathed the tranquility and the intimacy and the love of them both, curling his arms around Tetsuya’s waist before pulling him even closer.

After he pressed his lips to fragile lashes, Tetsuya groaning and mumbling about how it was too early, he decided that this was the only place he’d ever want to be.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Tetsuya paused mid-complaint, his ears flushing a soft pink even after so many years, and muttered, “It’s too early to embarrass me to death, Taiga-kun. Please wait at least an hour before making an attempt on my life.”

He laughed, loud enough to fill every corner of their little apartment, and buried his face in Tetsuya’s hair, fingers dancing between the bumps of his spine. Little hands darted over his own back, trailing down to tease the waistband of his pants, and he sighed happily, even when Nigou jumped up onto the bed with them.

They’d get up later, after he’d indulged Tetsuya with another ten minutes, and brush their teeth side-by-side while he tried to smooth that ridiculous bedhead. He’d wish Tetsuya off with a lunch, kissing him a good day before going to work himself, and then they’d come home to nap on the couch with Nigou, low droning of the TV mixed with snores and quiet smiles. Then they’d make dinner together, Tetsuya “testing” all of his cooking “for edibility, we can never be too careful.”

And when they’d lay down for the night, tangled in each other like they always had been, he’d wonder for the millionth time what he did to deserve all of this, his life just as warm and full as it could possibly be.


	11. Of Chamomile Tea and Fever Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Fever. It's practically tradition for me to be late when posting these orz Either way! I really love fics where one of them is sick and taken care of by the other, so I debated for a long time on who should be the sick one. In the end, hopefully I did this okay and you enjoy reading it~!
> 
> Rating: G

Kagami was pouring hot water into Kuroko’s favorite mug, dark red porcelain warming his hands, when he heard the smallest of shuffles behind him. Normally, he’d probably miss such a sound in the soft hustle of his apartment, lost in the click-clack of Nigou’s toenails on wood. And the owner of said sound probably wanted it to be that way, quiet and unassuming.

But he’d been listening for it this time. He’d been listening for it since this morning after it caught him off guard while making soup, resulting in spilled chicken broth all over the kitchen floor.

He scowled without even turning around. “Kuroko, for the last time, get back in bed.”

Sure enough, when he turned around, there was that familiar messy bedhead and glassy blue eyes staring at him, cheeks and nose dusted in a pink flush. Kuroko sniffled, then coughed immediately after, his tiny breaths muffled by the medical mask he insisted on wearing “for Kagami-kun’s protection.”

Kagami resisted the urge to squeeze his head for sneaking out of bed _for the third time now_ , and instead just sighed, reaching to gently ruffle Kuroko’s hair into an even messier tangle.

“You’re not gonna get any better if you don’t get some rest, you know.”

Kuroko shook his head, legs wobbling with the movement. “I feel fine, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami merely raised an eyebrow at him.

A nod, followed by, “Thanks to your care, I’m all better.”

Kagami didn’t know what kind of idiot Kuroko took him for, but he was pretty sure that at this point it was just insulting.

He knew Kuroko hadn’t been feeling well for the past day or two, complaining that he had no energy and that his throat was just a little itchy from allergies. So when he woke up to Kuroko fitfully tossing in his sleep, groans mixed with coughs and then muttered protests of, “No, Kagami-kun, don’t turn into a cheeseburger again,” he immediately sentenced his boyfriend to bedrest and chicken soup.

But unfortunately for them both, Kuroko’s cold had settled somewhere between his lungs and stubbornness, because even with fever dreams and wheezing breaths, he still refused to stay in the damn bed.

Kagami leaned forward until he knocked their foreheads together, then held still, Kuroko’s wide eyes blinking at him. Heat poured off of Kuroko in waves and warmed him where they touched. It especially worried him since Kuroko normally ran a few degrees cooler than himself, chilled fingertips always leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.

He frowned, but didn’t move, staring at Kuroko continued to blink dazedly. “You’re still running a fever, idiot. Get back in bed.”

Kagami could see the gears slowly churning in Kuroko’s head, cogs sluggish with fever and cold sweats. “Kagami-kun, I appreciate the proposal, but I’m too weak to appease your appetite right now.”

He rolled his eyes and then tugged Kuroko up off the ground, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other around his thighs, before carrying him back to the bedroom. Kuroko weakly protested in his arms, fingers pulling at his hair in a pitiful sort of defiance.

“But, Kagami-kun, I hate you having to take care of me…”

“I told you it’s fine. I took care of myself enough when I was sick to know what to do.” He couldn’t resist a teasing, “Unlike you, grandma’s boy.”

Kuroko paused, then didn’t say any more. Kagami could almost hear his pout, but ignored it in favor of opening the door and setting him on the bed. He immediately swaddled the smaller in the three-blanket-cocoon he snuck out of, lightly brushing blue hair out of the way to place the wet washcloth back on his forehead.

“Now, be good and stay here. I’ll bring you some tea, so just try to get some rest.”

Watery blue eyes, dazed and hooded in their already drowsy state, peered out at him before a small hand reached out to tug at his shirt. “Will you come back quickly?”

The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile. “I thought you didn’t want me to get sick?”

“I don’t, but I also want to cuddle with you. It’s a terrible struggle, Kagami-kun.”

He snorted and quickly pressed his lips to the crown of Kuroko’s head before sliding off the bed. “I get it. I’ll be back.”

Kagami plopped a bag of chamomile tea in the steaming cup once he was in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring while his thoughts drifted. He liked to think he knew Kuroko better than other people, that he knew what Kuroko would say before the words even curled his tongue. He knew Kuroko’s kind and gentle sides, but also his stubborn and self-loathing sides, so while Kagami may have been stupid, there was one thing he knew fluently in this world, and it was Kuroko.

He especially knew that Kuroko didn’t like to burden people. The little idiot would take the weight of the world onto his own shoulders, knees nearly buckling, and trudge forward without ever asking for help. It wasn’t a pride sort of thing, but more that he just didn’t want to bother anyone.

So Kagami couldn’t help but smile as he fished the teabag out of the mug. Because Kuroko was letting him do something for him, was beginning to let Kagami take a little bit of that weight from him, and it felt damn good after having Kuroko carry some of his own burdens after all this time.

He trekked back to the bedroom, tea in hand, only to find Kuroko curled up in a ball and dozing, eyes closed and washcloth missing from his forehead again. Even though Kuroko said he was afraid Kagami would get sick, it didn’t stop him from setting the mug on the nightstand before sliding under the mess of blankets with him, arms wrapping around Kuroko’s shivering body. He was answered with a groan, but Kuroko turned and buried his face in Kagami’s chest, hands tangling in the back of his shirt as if Kagami was going to leave any second.

“Kagami-kun,” he called from somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

Kagami raked a hand through Kuroko’s hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m right here. Go ahead and sleep.”

“But you’ll get sick.”

“Don’t worry about me when you’re the one with a fever.” He rapped his knuckles against Kuroko’s head softly. “Now sleep.”

Before Kuroko drifted off entirely, swept into another delusional dream about cheeseburgers and tigers, he muttered, “Kagami-kun, you’re amazing.”

And Kagami pretended he had caught Kuroko’s cold, that it was a fever making his own cheeks flush with heat.


	12. Of Bacon and One-Hit Wonders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Breakfast + Dancing. I've had this idea sitting in the corner of my head for awhile now, so I thought today's prompt combined with a past one would be perfect for finally writing it~! I still can't seem to write anything that doesn't revolve around fluff and these two being dorks, but I hope that you enjoy it regardless! <3
> 
> Rating: G

Kuroko awakes to the glow of golden sun streaming through blinds, the gentle coo of birds mixed with the slow stream of traffic, and the heavy scent of bacon drifting in the air. It’s the perfect kind of morning.

For anyone but Kuroko.

So he rolls over with the intention of burying his face in a firm, tan chest, mumbling about how it’s too early to be alive and how the world should go back to bed for ten more minutes. If it’s like any other morning, Kagami will graciously give him another half an hour, stroking his hair and humming under his breath as Kuroko drifts in and out of consciousness. His hand pats across the sheets, and it takes him a moment to realize that the warm side of the bed is empty, chilled from lack of occupancy.

And it’s very unlike Kagami-kun to get up without disturbing Kuroko in any form, given how tangled they manage to get in the middle of the night.

He doesn’t want to. Really,  _really_  doesn’t want to because it’s a Saturday, one of the days he’s actually allowed to sleep in, and a glance at the clock tells him that he could probably manage to sneak another hour or two of sleep without the world ending. But the bed’s not nearly warm enough for his taste. So he sits up and scrubs at his messy hair, yawning and stretching before tugging one of Kagami’s shirts over his head and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he crawls out of bed.

Nigou’s waiting outside the door, sitting up and wagging his tail when Kuroko pads out into the hallway, reaching down to scratch behind soft ears before making his way to the joined living room and kitchen. It’s not until his hand is on the doorknob, door halfway opened, that he realizes exactly how much noise is going on in their little apartment.

Sizzling bacon, the loud beep of the stove, and the crooning of some American pop song Kuroko doesn’t know. He stands in the doorframe, blinking and trying to make sense of all the clamor, and it takes him much longer than it should to notice the star of the show.

There’s Kagami, making breakfast as he usually does, already donning an apron and mixing a bowl of what Kuroko hopes is his specialty pancakes. There’s food cooking all around him as Kagami navigates the kitchen with expert ease, picking up pans and cracking eggs. Then there’s the little stereo sitting on the wooden magazine rack in the living room, blasting music.

But that’s not what catches Kuroko’s attention and makes his lips turn up in a soft smile, huffing a laugh under his breath.

Kagami’s cooking, that much is obvious, but he’s also belting along to the song, voice loud and echoing to the point that it drowns everything else. His hips bounce in an awkward sort of time to the beat, as he sways through the kitchen and dips into the fridge with a dramatic finesse. He pours batter into a frying pan and bops his head as he does, and Kuroko knows enough English to know that sometimes Kagami just sings a series of incoherent noises when he forgets the lyrics.

If this is what Kagami did every morning when making breakfast, Kuroko just might have to start waking up earlier.

He’s still chuckling to himself as he pads silently towards the kitchen. He figures he owes Kagami at least the favor of announcing his presence, especially after the performance he just gave. So he waits until Kagami’s safely away from the stove, digging through the fridge for some coffee creamer while subtly shaking his ass.

“Good morning, Kagami-kun.”

“ _Fucking shit!_ ” echoes into the living room, followed by a crack as Kagami knocks his head on one of the shelves. And then the redhead freezes, spine rigid and still half in the fridge.

Kuroko’s smile turns into a smirk in one corner as he props himself up on the counter. They stand in a stubborn sort of silence, neither saying a word while the pancakes sizzle in the pan and Kuroko yawns sleepily. Kagami slowly stands up, slamming the fridge shut and keeping his back trained to Kuroko.

Then he snaps around and glares at Kuroko, pointing a finger at him.

“ _You didn’t see anything_.”

Kuroko nods understandingly. “You’re right. I didn’t see you just put on a musical performance that could put most artists to shame right in our very kitchen.”

A furious blush steals over Kagami’s cheeks, flaming them the same shade as his hair before he busies himself with finishing breakfast. “ _Shut up!_  It’s not my fault that you don’t make any damn noise when you move!”

The entire time he makes their plates, he refuses to meet Kuroko’s eyes, which is fine with Kuroko as he’s busy watching the line of Kagami’s shoulders flex under the material of his shirt. When the plates are filled with pancakes and bacon and eggs, two mugs of steaming coffee to the side, Kagami finally manages to look at him, his face cooled to a mere pink.

“I should feed your breakfast to Nigou.”

Kuroko smiles. “But that wouldn’t be good for him, Kagami-kun. It’d also be very mean of you. Besides,” he can’t resist leaning over the counter, planting his lips in a quick kiss to Kagami’s cheek, “you were very cute.”

Kagami looks like he wants to squeeze his head or whack his side, forehead wrinkling with his scowl, but instead he bends down to lightly bite Kuroko’s nose, rough fingers dancing under his shirt to rub at the small of his back. “I’m gonna get you back, you know. Now get your plate, I thought we’d eat on the balcony today.”

He keens under Kagami’s easy touch, smile dancing to some happy tune. It’s little moments like this, where both of their guards are completely down and there’s nothing but the comforting presence of each other, that Kuroko grows weak. He’d happily stay curled up in this space and time, Kagami almost gently swaying with him while waiting for his response.

So he nods, leaning to bump Kagami’s collarbone with his forehead. “I think that sounds nice.”

As they gather their meal then settle outside, feeding each other little bites and Kuroko stealing pieces of Kagami’s pancakes even though he still has two of his own just so the redhead will scold him and steal a piece back, he makes a mental note to wake up just a little earlier tomorrow in hopes of an encore.


	13. Of Spines and Body Language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Language. This took me much MUCH longer than it should have to write, since I've come home for the weekend and my family (along with a headache) kept distracting me for most of the day. I originally had a different idea, of Kagami cursing in English, but I decided to combine that with body language, because I'm weak. Anyways, I hope that it's enjoyable all the same and thank you for reading~ <3
> 
> Rating: E

When Kuroko was in middle school, he made himself learn the language of people.

He trained himself to be observant, to notice every verbal tic, every finger twitch, and every shift in emotion. He made himself focus on the things no one else would see, until it was second nature to rattle off a list of someone’s hidden habits and qualities. Sometimes it was frustrating, knowing so much while everyone knew so little about him, but it also had its uses. It lent not only to his misdirection, something to be used for the good of the team, but also to his own understanding, his own growing empathy for the people around him.

So Kuroko learned. He learned body language and vocabulary patterns until he could translate within seconds, react appropriately to every little change in a person’s tone or atmosphere. He studied and practiced until he was articulate, eyes able to discern a person at merely a glance.

But, out of everyone, out of every single person he learned and spoke, he was most fluent in ‘Kagami Taiga’.

Maybe it was because of how much time they spent together, or maybe because of how fascinating Kagami was, but no matter how much he learned about Kagami, there was still always something new beneath his rough exterior. Kuroko took it upon himself to experience all the facets of Kagami, all the different ways he could speak and act, how he moved and behaved, the glint in his eyes and the pull of his breaths.

He wanted more than to just know Kagami. He wanted to _understand_ , down to the very marrow of bone and fiber of muscle.

So Kuroko would eye down Kagami’s spine like he was the most entrancing novel he had ever picked up, fingertips curling over broad shoulders like the cover of his most beloved book.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Kuroko learned in Kagami-speak was that Kagami found it easier to yell aggressively than state how he was actually feeling.

When he was angry, fire crackling off him in sparks, he yelled a cocktail of _fuck_ , _shit_ , and _damn_. When he was sad, a lonely sort of morose figure outlined in grey, he yelled that he was fine and not to worry. And when he was happy, smile shining like solar flares, as if Kagami were bioluminescent, he yelled a proud tiger’s roar.

But it mostly occurred when he was embarrassed, when he needed to hide under a tough skin that was supposedly impenetrable, so no one could see how gentle or kind he was. Kuroko quickly learned to not take it personal when he was called an ‘idiot’ or a ‘dumbass’ or a ‘sneaky dog-loving bastard that really needs to make some fucking noise when he moves’. It was Kagami’s defense mechanism, a way for him to retreat back into comfortable territory and distance himself from others, just in the case that they ever left, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

So Kuroko made his own mental Kagami dictionary, a quick way of translating such seemingly hateful words into what they truly meant. He carefully read between all of Kagami’s lines, stepping over them and through them until he stood next to that tall frame, clutching at callused hands. Kagami may have spoken insults, but Kuroko heard promising prose anyways.

“Yeah.” _Leave it to me, always._

“You little shit!” _You little shit!_

“Hurry up, dumbass!” _But I’ll wait as long as you want_.

“S-shut up!” _I’m glad I met you too_.

Kagami’s outbursts were normal, a regular occurrence for him to shout as his face turned bright red. But it didn’t take long for those outbursts to be followed by a shy meeting of eyes and a quick mumbled, “Thanks, though. Idiot.” _Thank you. For everything._

 

* * *

 

The second thing Kuroko learned in his redheaded studies was that Kagami frequently let his body tell the truth when his mouth was lying.

Kagami had never been good with his words, always just spouting the first thing that came to mind and then dealing with the consequences later. But when Kagami’s mouth would say one thing, his body would often say another, a juxtaposition of awkwardness that was so endearing it made Kuroko’s heart thump against his ribs. Kagami’s body was earnest, in all of his joy, anger, and sadness, an ever-changing representation of wildfire emotions.

So Kuroko catalogued all of Kagami’s quirks, seeing how he held his body before listening to the words he would say. He carefully analyzed every twitch of Kagami’s hands, every moment of his eyes, and met every single one of them with his own, dark red tangled in light blue like the twining of their fingers. Kagami may have hid his words, but Kuroko heard them anyways.

A sniff and a stutter, then a tug of an ear. _I’m definitely lying, but you can’t prove it, shut up._

Shoulders hunched close, arms trembling at his sides. _I’m sorry_.

A clenched jaw, mandible flexing. _I’m angry or horny, take the gamble_.

Eyes closed and smile quiet, fingertips dipping between vertebrae. _God, I love you_.

Kuroko grew accustomed to looking beyond Kagami’s words, to look at his cheeky grin or the darting of his eyes for the truth. But it didn’t take long for his own face to flush red, because every time Kagami touched him, he could hear the quiet, ‘ _You’re so amazing_ ,’ behind it.

 

* * *

 

The most important thing Kuroko learned from interpreting Kagami was how beautiful of a language English was when, “ _Fuck, Kuroko_ ,” was growled in his ear.

Kuroko never really thought of English as being lovely or attractive, never considered it much outside of classes and exams. But when Kagami’s tongue would curl around the foreign language so familiarly, it would travel down and coil in Kuroko’s hips, waiting to spring. And while hearing Kagami’s accent wrap pleasantly around alien syllables was exciting enough, nothing made Kuroko’s breath shorten like when Kagami turned crude, when curses tumbled from his mouth like prayers.

So Kuroko tugged on Kagami’s hair, painted scratches down the canvas of Kagami’s back, just to hear those beautiful, filthy words growled and whispered to him over and over and over again. He memorized how they reverberated off his bones, how they echoed off his skin, as they ignited a thousand raging butterflies in his chest. Kagami may have had a sailor’s mouth, but Kuroko kissed it anyways.

Kagami slid into him like they were home, large hands trembling on his hips while Kuroko’s knees spread across the sheets. “ _You’re so fucking beautiful.”_

Canines matched along shoulder blades, bed creaking with every lewd moan falling off his polite tongue, nails pressing crescents in his thighs. _“Shit, you’re amazing.”_

Kuroko arched, hands tangling into red hair and soft pillows, abdomen clenching as a tongue traced up his spine. _“Fuck, fuck, **fuck**.”_

Breathless gasps and pounding hearts, crashing until both the sheets and Kuroko were a mess, spent and tangled in Kagami. _“I love you, Tetsuya. I love you.”_

Kuroko collapsed into the bed, voice choking on a low whine as Kagami slipped out of him. Their eyes met, cheeks still glowing and sweat trailing on chests, and then Kuroko tugged him down, meeting that spitfire tongue with his own, smiling. And it may have taken long for him to practice, quiet repetitions in the mirror, but it was worth saying, “ _I love you too_ ,” in English, just to see Kagami answer with wide eyes and an even wider grin.

And Kuroko knew all the words unspoken in that smile, knew every word of ‘Kagami Taiga’ as if they were etched on his heart.

In the exact same way that Kagami knew every word of ‘Kuroko Tetsuya’.


End file.
